


To: Clarence

by randomostrichchocolates



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, I don't know if I should consider this Gen or slash, I mean it's quite obviously Destiel but you can also take it as really close friends, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-25
Updated: 2013-10-25
Packaged: 2017-12-30 11:00:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1017799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randomostrichchocolates/pseuds/randomostrichchocolates
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas is receiving care packages with baked goods, and sweatshirts, and cute little notes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To: Clarence

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this post on tumblr - http://nerdylittledude.tumblr.com/post/65027331174/dean-and-sam-sending-cas-care-packages-addressing

There was a new one every day.

The package usually arrived in a cardboard box, taped on all sides with “To: Clarence” written on the top. Castiel had no idea how Dean kept finding him when he was continuously moving around (or why considering Dean was the one who kicked him out a week ago) but the boxes kept arriving outside whatever homeless shelter or area Cas was currently staying at.

Cas always opened the box. There was no point in letting the free, warm clothes and delicious food go to waste. And the pies, God (or Metatron?), the pies. Castiel had really grown to understand two things – why Dean loved his pies so much and the fact that Dean was an amazing chef.

There was always a letter as well. Cas never opened that part. He honestly had not forgiven Dean and despite the fact that the food was heavenly (and mind you, Cas would know), Castiel was still angry. So, he didn’t want to read Dean’s stupid letters full of his apologies and annoying jokes and “Dean-ness”. Cas really didn’t. It hurt.

Today had been a bad day. Humans, as Cas had soon realize, may be very generous in some cases but can also be unlimitedly cruel. Some of the guys at his newest homeless shelter had stolen the warm burgers Dean had packed for Cas yesterday that he had been saving. If they had asked, Cas would have given it to them too. Shame, really. So, when Cas dug through the newest “To: Clarence” box, he really could not be blamed for deciding to open the letter. Dean would usually say something to make him feel better.

The letter was stuffed in a homemade envelope and written with a green ink pen. Cas carefully peeled open the envelope and took out the letter, which turned out to be more than just a page. First was a note from Dean.

_Hey, Cas_

_As always, hope you’re alright. At this point I highly doubt you’re reading these stupid notes. In case you are though, here’s your newest “Being Human” tip:_

_Don’t take a joint from a man named Don. Really, don’t take a joint from anyone, Cas. I don’t want you to end up a homeless addict. Seriously. No drugs, okay, Cas? Good._

_I’ve put in an easy recipe for baked beans, too and some tips for how you should store those burgers I sent you. Hope they were good. Also, did you like the peach cobbler? I hadn’t tried making that before._

_Are you wearing the sweatshirts I sent you? I don’t want you catching a cold out there. You need to be on your feet and alert, okay, buddy?_

_Hang in there._

_I’m sorry,_

_Dean_

Cas flipped to the next page to find a detailed recipe on making baked beans using a campfire and how to store burgers without a freezer. He snorted at Dean’s detailed lists, each step with annotations for Cas to clarify the step in case he didn’t understand a specific term. Castiel sighed slightly, the now normal ache pulling at his chest.

He put the letter into a box where he kept all of Dean’s notes, even the unopened ones and pulled the blue sweatshirt (that smelled like Dean) around his shoulders tighter. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of the jacket to find a pen and an old receipt to a motel.

He left the note exactly where he had found the box and left.

* * *

 

“Dean, he left something in return.”

Dean lifted his head up from where he was pressing cookie dough to see Sam – no, Zeke – holding a crumpled receipt in his hands. Dean rushed over, almost tripping over a chair, to grab the note. He read it and smiled. “Finally.”

Ezekiel frowned at him. “Do you need me to take him anything else?”

Dean looked back at him and shook his head. “No, later tonight is fine. You can, you know, go do your half off the head now.” He frowned at Ezekiel expectantly.

Ezekiel nodded rigidly and soon, with the quick blue eye flash that Dean would _never_ get used to, Sam was back. “Dude, are you seriously always making food?”

“Man’s gotta eat, Sammy.”

Sam looked at him suspiciously. “I literally never see you eating all the food you make. Where is it going?”

Dean laughed, the fake one he had been perfecting over the last several weeks, and avoided meeting Sam’s eyes. “Obviously I haven’t been eating it all on my own. I’ve been stuffing Kevin with food and I sent some to Charlie the other day too.”

“When?”

“Sam, you are so out of it. It was literally the other day.” Dean laughed again, and exited the room swiftly before he could be barraged with more questions.

Sam glanced down at the countertop of the kitchen to see a motel receipt with something scribbled on the back.

_Hello, Dean. I’m “hanging in there”. Also the pie is delicious._


End file.
